


Gibbs VS The Alpha ..... Eventually

by Daryl_Alenko



Series: The Family Gibbs [2]
Category: NCIS, Stargate Atlantis, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Flirting, Gibbs Meets Derek Eventually, Good Alpha Derek Hale, Jealousy, M/M, Pack Feels, Pack Fluff (Teen Wolf), Protective Derek, Sassy Peter Hale, Sassy Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski's Name, protective uncle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:55:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22037395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daryl_Alenko/pseuds/Daryl_Alenko
Summary: Stiles is not prepared to become an Alpha's boyfriend .. but he's even less prepared for his boyfriend to meet his Uncle.Tagged Mature for language.
Relationships: Anthony DiNozzo/Jethro Gibbs, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Series: The Family Gibbs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1288247
Comments: 12
Kudos: 232





	Gibbs VS The Alpha ..... Eventually

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the continuation of Hobbit Poetry and Insanity. It was supposed to be a short, silly fic about Gibbs coming to meet Stiles new boyfriend, but turned into a rather long, interesting fic. Hope you enjoy.

Stiles Stilinski is your every day, average teenager ... except for how he's really not. Sure, he goes to school, he's got ADHD, and he's a bit of a nerd/geek. But he's also one of the smartest people in the entire school, he's survived more life or death situations than most adults have ever had to face ... he is also a human with a spark that runs with wolves and gives everything of himself to protect his home town of Beacon Hills.

As of two months ago, he also became one half of a shiny new couple with the gorgeous hotness that is the Alpha. Because, you know, he already treads a fine line of sanity, why not add an Alpha-badass werewolf boyfriend to the list of crazy in his life!

He still doesn't quite understand how this happened. He and said Alpha went from standing on opposite sides of the line to dating in something like ten minutes and he's still not sure how or why.

Well, that's not entirely true. He thinks it has something to do with trust. In the end, no matter how much they threaten or snark, they actually -trust- each other. A fact made evident by Stiles willingly treading water for two hours holding Derek up ... which he only had to do because Derek willing put himself between Stiles and the Kanima and then turned his back on the creature to try and push Stiles out of the way.

There's also the matter of Scott not telling him about his plan to stop Gerard Argent. That betrayal of their friendship, the fact that the crazy prick beat him up, and the fact that Scott put them all in danger trying to play the hero, kinda pushed him more toward Derek. Because that one act made it obvious that Scott doesn't trust him or think him capable of helping.

So, as the remnants of Derek's pack struggled to stay together, Stiles found himself doing everything he could to help. Sometimes that meant spending part of his summer researching things, or making sure Isaac remembered to eat. It meant snarking and bantering with Peter, even if Repete still creeped him out. It also meant standing his ground when Derek had a particularly shitty day and treated everything like the opening volley of an impending war.

Unfortunately, he has to shy away from Scott on the few occasions that his best friend actually remembers that anything exists outside of Allison Argent. He didn't avoid him for petty or childish reasons. He did it because Scott betrayed the Pack and even if Stiles didn't belong to the Pack, he will do everything in his power to protect it.

Some part of Stiles that he considers his inner romantic, would love to say that he had some big, epic, unrequited crush on the Hale Pack Alpha and that spending all of that extra time with him had been exquisite torture, etc ... but yeah, no, that would make him a janked up lying liar that -lies- because the simple truth is that he had never really considered it.

Objectively, he knew that Derek was hot. Any time the poor sour wolf was out in public, people ogled, drooled, and generally flirted, even when it was painfully obvious that Derek wasn't interested. He acknowledged Derek was attractive in the same way he acknowledged Danny was attractive. It was a statement of fact and not something that otherwise impacted his life in any way.

He was also aware that Derek had a plethora of personality traits that coincide with his own. They can both switch between deadpan and sassy in two seconds flat. They are both loyal to a fault and will do stupid, risky things for the people they care about.

So yeah, he was always aware of those things, but they were not applicable in any way. They weren't friends, were barely allies, and aren't packmates. (Even if they are dating now, Stiles doesn't consider himself part of the Pack.) He saw no reason to dwell on Derek beyond the moments they needed to interact and whatever needed concentrating on at that moment.

Which is why he had been totally blindsided by all this!

* * *

The summer had gone by in a blur of routine. Stiles spent most days helping his dad or hanging out with Isaac. He had been beyond surprised when Derek began popping up from time to time, asking if Stiles could help him research things. It wasn't the requests that he found odd, but rather the fact that Derek was civil and almost nice when asking.

Stiles may or may not have spent several days researching Changelings after the first time Derek was polite to him.

Though it was not an every day thing, it happened often enough to become a comfortable part of the routine.

Stiles had seen his Dad off to work half an hour ago with a proper semi-healthy supper before washing up. He had no reason to feel the need to, but he still found himself grabbing two bottles of soda and an arm full of various snacks before heading up to his room. He wasn't expecting Derek, there had been no preset plans for Sour wolf to come over, but he's in no way surprised to see his bedroom door wide open, light spilling out into the hallway.

He is, however, beyond shocked to find Derek's leather jacket thrown over the back of his computer chair, his shoes tucked under the edge of his bed. Most shocking, though, is Derek stretched out on his side on the bed, cheek propped up on his fist, an Avengers comic open. 

From an objective point of view, it may be one of the hottest things he's ever seen. Derek is gorgeous, no question, and when his already tight Henley is straining from his position and his jeans are hugging his hips and thighs, and his usually broody, sour features are relaxed in such an easy picture of enjoyment ... even Scott would admit the man is hot. Begrudgingly, with that confused puppy nose wrinkle of his, but he'd admit it anyway. 

By some miracle, Stiles manages not to flail in surprise and drop his arm full all over his floor. Instead, he carefully deposits every thing on his desk and falls into his chair. He makes a conscious effort not to lean back against Derek's jacket.

"How long have you been creeping in here?" Stiles' question is punctuated by the fizzy hiss of him opening a soda.

"Hello to you too, Stiles." The deadpan delivery actually makes the teen smile and hand the other drink over. Derek takes hold of it without looking up from the comic. "Thanks." Again, it's become so commonplace for Derek to be polite, that Stiles doesn't react to the thanks. He just spins around in his chair and opens his laptop. 

"Hello, Alpha Sour wolf. How long have you been here?" With his back turned, Stiles misses the flash of red in Derek's eyes and the momentarily blissed out smile to cross his handsome features before he schools himself back into his usual bland expression. 

"Bout an hour and a half ... sounds like your Dad is doing okay." The teen tenses in his chair, struggling not to give away too much. Derek already knows that the teen and his dad are having problems due to the big furry secret Stiles is keeping for everyone in his life. Derek really wishes he would just tell the Sheriff already. He just wants Stiles happy.

"Yup." Stiles pops the P in a slow drawl as he pulls up a browser and waits patiently. Almost five minutes pass before he swivels around and sees that Derek has changed positions. The comic has been moved to the side, Derek now laying on his back, head propped up by Stiles' pillow. He's also staring intently at the teen, making him wiggle in his seat uncomfortably. "..what?" Despite the heat behind the snapped word, Derek doesn't relent. Just continues to stare at him with those vibrant, unearthly eyes. "...why are you here, Derek? This is usually the moment where you give me some vague supernatural description and I work my Google-Fu magic. So, what's up?"

After another moment of silence, Stiles nearly flails right out of his chair when Derek actually smiles. Not a smirk, sassy grin, or frustrated grimace .. an actual, honest to God -smile- and yeah, it's more impressive than any smile he has seen Lydia wear. It turns his insides to mush and has him calculating ways he can make it happen again.

All.

The.

Time.

"Google-fu? Really, Stiles?" With those teasing words, the Alpha turns his head, eyes not leaving Stiles until they absolutely have to, focusing on the ceiling above him. "Not here for your mad skills, Jackie Chan." Stiles scowls at that, but doesn't comment. Instead, he finds himself waiting for some further explanation. 

Ten minutes later, he's practically vibrating in his seat.

"How are Lydia and Danny doing?" The question is so out of left field that Stiles splutters and stutters. What reason is there for the Alpha to ask after them? He huffs and turns back around, frowning at his laptop as he closes it. For some reason, he doesn't want to turn back around.

"They're.. okay, I guess? I mean, Lydia is adjusting to being lower on the totem pole, is still missing Jackson. Danny .." He bites back a snort, running his fingers through his longer bangs. "Danny's okay. Just broke up with another guy so he's hitting Jungle tonight." He can feel the heat rushing into his cheeks as he wiggles in his seat again. "He, uh .. he actually asked me to go with him." To say Stiles had been surprised when Danny voluntarily offered to spend time with him would be a mega understatement. Even more surprising is the low, deep, chest rattling growl that Derek gives. "I wasn't really in the mood to hang out with him, though." Huh. That little revelation shuts the growl down instantly and Stiles vaguely wonders what caused it but isn't in the mood to try and decipher the werewolf tonight.

"So .. that's it? No plans with little Lydia or dimple-boy Danny lately?"

..........

..........

Dimple-boy Danny? Really!? He is totally gonna call Danny that at some point and then run for his life!

"Uhm .. no, not really. I mean, I'm mostly busy these days? Between helping Isaac, taking care of Dad, practing with Peter and researching for you, there's not a lot of time for Lydia or Danny."

Huh.

It's not until those words are out that he realizes what he's saying. He's chosen Derek's Pack over Lydia and Danny. How the hell did -that- happen??

"Hmmm." If Stiles wasn't sure that he would get dumped out of his chair, he'd say that Derek almost sounds like a cocky kitten when he purrs that sound. But he has a little more survival instinct than that. Sometimes.

"So .... what ... you just came over to ask about Lydia and Danny? I call BS, Derek. What's going on?" Stiles moves to face the werewolf again, leaning back in his chair. The moment he feels the impression of leather against the nape of his neck he jerks upright. The last thing he needs is Derek bitching at him for messing up his jacket.

(He somehow manages to miss Derek's look of utter disappointment when he leans away from it.)

"Never said that's why I came over, Stiles." Okay, it's always been hard to pry information out of the werewolf, but this is harder than trying to pry a rusted lid off a greasy mason jar! It feels as if Derek is doing this on purpose, to wind him up. That's nothing new but it feels somehow different this time. As if there is a purpose to this that he's managed to miss.

"Then how about you -tell me- why you're here? If not, then you can go ahead and leave." By this point, Stiles feels like he's drowning in frustration, glaring at Derek.

Derek instantly sits up, on the edge of the bed, so close that Stiles can feel the furnace of heat that pours off the werewolf. He barely has time to begin processing the change of position before it changes again. Derek reaches out lightening fast, large, powerful hands spreading across Stiles' thighs. He can't take his eyes off the sight of someone touching him in such an intimate way for the first time. 

"Hmm .." Again, that almost purring sound from the Alpha. It sends a shiver down his spine. He watches, transfixed, as Derek's finger tips dig into his thighs, reeling him closer, their knees bumping. "I did come over for a reason." Derek's hands relax but don't let go. Instead, he nudges one of his knees between Stiles', so that he can draw the human that much closer. "You. I'm here for you, no other reason." Stiles almost gasps as he watches Derek lick his bottom lip. "Not for your Google-fu .. not to talk about Pack business or ask for help." Stiles is speechless. He's not sure he's -breathing- right now. Because for reasons he cannot fathom, Derek's hands are on him, his gorgeous Alpha eyes are looking at him with something akin to hunger. What the hell even?! What alternate reality did he fall into?? "Just you, Stiles."

Just him.

When was the last time anyone had done that? Had just chosen him??

Scott chose Gerard Argent over him.

His Dad spends more time working and drinking than paying attention to him.

His uncle ... well, he talks to his Uncle several times a week, but being all the way across the country takes its toll. And his favorite cousin has been MIA for such long stretches of time that it's always a surprise when he calls.

The Pack ... they don't mind his help but they never chose him. 

So, the thought that the Alpha is choosing him in some way ... it's kinda mind boggling. It is also so surreal that Stiles wants to laugh. Preferably, right into the Alpha's face. 

"What .... what are you talking about, dude? Whatever this ... power dynamic is .. I'm not in the mood to play." For the first time all summer, Stiles finds himself uneasy in Derek's presence.

"Stiles ..." The last person to say his name so fondly .... was Scott. The day Stiles agreed to try out for Lacrosse. Never has he heard his name spoken so softly, sweetly, from Derek freakin Hale, before. He wonders if his heart sounds as explosive to the supernatural hearing of the Alpha as it does to himself. "-Puppies- play ... not Alphas. As for power ... -you- have all the power here. I can't ... I can't be the Alpha, not for this. It's all up to you. Say the word, and I will back off and this will never have happened. Or ...." The word or is a growl, of course it is, but it's unlike any other growl he has ever heard Derek give.

Because it sounds like a full, if not momentary, loss of control. It's wild and feral and Stiles finds himself shivering and squirming wantonly in his chair. That is not a reaction he has ever had, not even to Lydia.

What the hell, body!? HOW could it betray him like this!? He thought for sure that there was at least one stereotype he would skip in high school ... questioning his sexuality. He has never had reason to think of himself as anything other than heterosexual, and then -werewolves- and apparently everything is questionable. His sanity and sexuality right at the top.

"Or...?" The word is a cracked breath of anticipation, but Stiles is too confused, too excited and afraid and a dozen other things, to be self conscious.

He faced down Peter when he wanted to give him the bite, was corralled by the Kanima, kidnapped and beaten by Gerard Argent ... but -this- is the first time he has truly felt like prey. The way Derek has him trapped beneath his hands, pinned by his intense stare ... his fight or flight instinct is going haywire. He has never felt the desire to submit, but he's skirting the edge of doing so now.

Rather than say anything, Derek reels him in close enough that he can brush a kiss across Stiles' gaping mouth. Can so easily slot his mouth over the teen's bottom lip, leaving Stiles a quivering mess of confused hormones as he tugs and nips.

"Wow. Oh. Wow." The words spill from the teenager as he struggles to keep from making a horrible, undignified sound. Like squeaking, squealing, yelping, or even gasping. Though his breath has already become a roiling, heaving thing as his body continues to 'betray' him. "D-Derek .. why ... I mean ... what even, dude?!" He knows that he's not making sense. Even Scott would be hard pressed to understand exactly what Stiles is saying/asking and they've been best friends their entire lives, almost. 

"... you really need your own translator sometimes." Derek sounds far more amused than annoyed, and that's going to take some more getting used to. Yeah, they've been getting along, but come on! This is still so weird and new, and yet .. something he can -really- get behind. Though maybe it shouldn't be so surprising with Derek's hands on him and the taste of his lips on Stiles' mouth. "Yes, wow. Why? Because I want you. What even? That still depends on you. So, what's it gonna be, Stiles? Yes or no?" 

Is this supposed to be a legitimate question? I mean, deep down, he knows it is. Knows that this is serious, more than just some hormone induced frenzy or something, that he needs to have a real answer because this is a -real- question. So, he carefully pushes himself back. Pulls himself out from under Derek's hands, and instead of the flashing Alpha eyes or a growl like he expects, Derek just nods in approval and pushes himself a little further back on the bed. 

After a moment of hesitation, Stiles turns back toward his closed laptop and forces himself to do what he does best; think.

Derek wants him. Not someone else, him. And not because of what he can do for the Alpha's pack or anything. Derek Hale wants him for himself and himself alone. That is a heady truth that sends pin pricks of pleasure across his skin. He begins to rub almost absently at his arms as he thinks.

A part of him wants to say yes for no other reason than because someone finally seems to want him. That has never happened before. Even before Scott's furry little secret, he was the one preferred between the two of them, never Stiles. So, to be chosen .. of course he wants to jump all over that opportunity and see what it feels like for the first time. 

But he knows that can't be the -only- reason he says yes.

So, he starts to consider everything. There's the fact that the two of them can fight like storm fronts colliding, sometimes. But there's also the fact that when push comes to shove, they are -there- for each other. Neither of them have much experience in letting people in, but they also -get- each other. Their shared sense of humor and ability to banter without actually coming to blows says a lot about them. 

And yeah, okay, he's never seriously considered how good looking Derek was and then thought about doing anything about it. But that kiss ... yeah, that kiss showed just how on board he is physically ... and the fact that he trusts Derek and likes his sense of humor ... that proves that he's on board mentally, too. 

Wow. 

Stiles wants to date Derek. The decision is sudden and overwhelming and yet ... it lightens something in him as well. He hasn't breathed this easy in -years-. He must also broadcast his reached decision through chemosignals or body language, or something, because Derek is suddenly just .. there. He feels those strong arms wrap around him from behind. Feels Derek's chin come to rest on his shoulder and those talented lips pressing a soft kiss to the pulse point behind his ear.

And just like that, Stiles is the other half of a duo.

* * *

Summer began to pass in even more of a blur after that. He went from the forgotten friend struggling to help Derek's pack, to a centre piece in said Pack. Isaac no longer even -pretended- to do anything other than cling, Peter deferred to Stiles in moments that made his head spin, and Derek seemed ... a little softer around the edges. They could still enter into explosive fights at the drop of a pin, but they didn't last very long before they were hugging, kissing, or generally just curled up against each other. 

Scott and his Dad remained oblivious to the changes happening to Stiles, and that hurt ... but he now had people to help ease that hurt.

Stiles is currently curled up on the couch in his living room, his head pillowed in Isaac's lap. The larger teen is absently running his fingers through Stiles' growing bangs, twisting and curling the hair across his fingers in a comforting way. And though Stiles is obviously enjoying the attention, Isaac is the one that seems completely blissed out by the action. 

His head is canted back, nostrils flaring. His mouth is hanging open slightly, and his eyes are partially closed. He looks two seconds from falling asleep. Stiles couldn't be happier to know that the Pup is so comfortable. 

"You're about to fall asleep." Stiles whispers the words, trying to keep from taking the werewolf by surprise. The sudden tightening of fingers and light tug of his hair proves that he failed. He turns his head without dislodging the touch, hiding his grin against Isaac's thigh. 

"Yeah. Yeah, I am." Isaac's words slur a little, and Stiles feels a sense of warmth spread through him. He just loves that the Pack has become so comfortable with him, that he has this level of -trust- from them. That they are capable of dropping their guard around him. "I guess .. I should go." Stiles hand shoots out, grasping Isaac's knee and applying a slight pressure. Just enough for the werewolf to know that he's there, without being too intrusive.

"Or. You can stay right where you are and take a nap while I watch tv. And in about two hours, I'll make us something to eat." He doesn't have to tilt his head up to know that Isaac looks conflicted. He still struggles to handle people being nice to him, no matter how often it happens these days. "Come on, Isaac. You know I don't mind you staying." And they both know that's true. This has become a reoccurring thing. Isaac gets so comfortable he falls asleep, Stiles lets him nap, then cooks for them. 

"Hmm. Yeah, I guess ... I could do that." Poor Isaac yawns twice during that sentence, his petting tapering off as his lids finally lose the war with gravity and flutter closed. Stiles takes this moment to grin dopily at his friend before he turns his attention back to the tv. 

For half an hour, he watches some show or other without really retaining it. Instead, he finds himself grinning like a fool, planning so many things. Future Pack dinners he'll cook for his friends, the next time he will pester Peter for information to add to the Bestiary. Oddly enough, the one thing he's -not- planning right now, is the next bit of time he's going to spend with his Alpha boyfriend. Partially because Derek really seemed to enjoy planning their dates, and partially because they end up spending so much random time together, that there seems little reason to think on it. That is not to say that stray thoughts about the Alpha fail to enter his mind as he's planning. 

The comfort of the moment is all but shattered when his mobiles goes off. Isaac jerks so badly that he has to shoot a hand out to grab Stiles before he falls out of his lap. In fact, he quickly manhandles the smaller guy up, into his arms, so that Stiles back is curled to his chest and his arms envelope him. This is -not- an unusual position for the two of them to be in these days.

"S-sorry." Stiles can practically feel the poor werewolf blushing behind him and he merely grins and pats one of the hands settled on his stomach. 

"It's all cool, dude. It surprised me, too." He wiggles forward enough to snag his mobile off of the coffee table, his grin having grown to nuclear levels as he realizes that the ringtone playing is Semper Fi. Isaac growls warningly, only managing to settle once Stiles is leaning back against him again. "Jethro!" 

Isaac blinks abruptly, eyes narrowing at the sound of Stiles' voice. He has never heard the other teen sound so overjoyed before, and they have experienced a lot together this summer. Stiles was never even that excited to see -Derek- and his Alpha and packmate were that nauseating couple that every one secretly wanted to be. So, who is Jethro? And why is Stiles literally vibrating with excitement to hear from him??

Well, never let it be said that Isaac is beneath eavesdropping when it comes to the people he cares about.

"Gosia." The voice on the other end of the line is most definitely an older man, but obviously not the Sheriff or Peter, leaving Isaac feeling a little confused. He cannot think of a single older man beyond those two that Stiles might know. (Well, technically, he knows Chris Argent, but he wouldn't be calling Stiles, so it doesn't make much sense.)

"No! No, no, and NO! You are -not- allowed to use that name, Jethro. We've been over this dozens of times. You cannot use my real name or the shortened version of it. I have gone to -great- lengths to make sure that name isn't known. So don't go there, old man." Wait, what?? The shortened version of Stiles -real- name is Gosia? Isaac files that away for future reference, eyes closing so that he can better concentrate on the conversation. 

"Old Man? Really, Stiles? -Name- calling now? I thought you were better than that, kid." Isaac stifles a snicker against Stiles' neck when his friend actually sticks his tongue out at the phone. 

"Kid? Really, Jethro? -Name- calling now? I thought you were better than that." The exasperated yet fond put-upon sigh from the other end of the line makes Isaac ache in so many ways. Apart from the way Stiles mothers him and the way that Derek protects him, he hasn't had anyone that fond and caring of him in a very long time. He misses it so damn much.

"I can't even with you sometimes, Gosia." Stiles lights up at that, squirming absently in Isaac's lap as the werewolf continues to nuzzle against him. It occurs to him that this should be private, but it also occurs to him that if Stiles wanted true privacy, he wouldn't be sitting in his lap like this.

"I know, but you love me anyway, right?" Isaac goes still at those words, hooded eyes opening wide in surprise. Because he can not only hear, but he can -scent- the insecurity on his friend. Stiles is actually afraid that this Jethro guy is going to brush him off or something. 

"Of course I do, dumbass. Don't ask stupid questions." 

"Oh God, you sound like Rodney!" Whoever that is, the comparison makes Stiles laugh and Jethro outright growl. "Sorry, sorry, my bad, Jethro. So .. is everything okay? Is Pretty Boi driving you crazy yet?" 

"Hey! I heard that, junior!" Another man calls out in playful anger in the background of the call, Jethro scoffing.

"Every. Damn. Day." 

"And you wouldn't have it any other way, Jethro."

"Damn straight, kid. Now, I didn't call to discuss my boyfriend, Gosia .. I called to discuss yours." Isaac tenses at the same moment that Stiles does, every instinct in his body saying that he should be prepared to defend his Alpha and his packmate, even though there is no -physical- danger here. 

"I .. my _what_? Come on, Gibbs. You really think I have a -boyfriend-!?" Isaac winces at the high register of Stiles' voice even as he battles down a sudden, almost overwhelming wave of anger on behalf of his Alpha. Is Stiles denying this because he's ashamed of dating their Alpha!? Isaac forces himself to take a few calming breaths less he start growling and snarling in Stiles' ear.

"Yes, Stiles, that's -exactly- what I know." Stiles shifts uncomfortably for a moment, scowling at his lap.

"... Rodney ratted me out, didn't he? Imma kill him! Fine. Yes. I have a boyfriend." Stiles suddenly wrenches himself free of Isaac's arms, making the pup whimper and whine softly at the loss. He even goes so far as to make grabby hands at the human, who easily sidesteps and begins to pace in front of the TV. "And no, I had no plans to tell you, Jethro. Not any time soon. This is literally the -first- relationship I've ever had, okay? And call me crazy, but I like Derek way too much for you to show up and drive him off! I have liked a grand total of -four- people my entire life. Four. One was my stupid little kid crush on Tony ... my ridiculous hormonal crush on Lydia .. my overblown romantic crush on Sheppard, and now Derek. Please don't ruin this for me." By the end, Stiles is practically panting, and Isaac is a little taken back. So, it's not that Stiles is ashamed of their Alpha .. it's that he's afraid of losing Derek. 

Isaac really just wants to tackle the human and aggressively cuddle him. 

".. fine. I'll give you a little time, Stiles. Not much. I have to know he's good enough for you. Also, a heads up. Rodney is engaged to the Colonel." 

"You just, you don't even know, Gibbs. Okay? It is -not- a matter of him being good enough for me. Not even close. It ... it's a matter of him being so far out of my league. I am -lucky- that he took the time to notice someone like me. I just .. he ..." Stiles sucks in a heavy breath, and then barrels on, presumably before this Jethro guy can correct him. "It, uh .. it really doesn't matter, Gibbs. And since I never really get the chance to speak to Rodney, tell him I said congratulations, it's about damn time, and I -better- be invited to the wedding or he better not bother ever calling or e-mailing again. Bye." Stiles quickly ends the call and then holds the button on his phone until it powers down.

Isaac lets out a soft, trembled whimper and is up, over the coffee table before the other teen can register much of anything. 

"Why the hell would you say all of that, Stiles!? Tell me you don't -actually- believe any of that BS ... do you?" Isaac wraps himself around Stiles from behind, clinging to the human as he desperately asks his question. Stiles remains quiet for a long time, before eventually shoving his mobile into his pocket and slipping out of Isaac's arms.

"I need to go get supper started, Pup. Go ahead and nap. I'll come get you when it's done." Despite how desperately Isaac wants to push the issue, he can't. Because this conversation is obviously over, and if he pushes Stiles too hard, he might be banished from the Stilinski home and he cannot stand that thought. So, he will worry in silence.

For now.

* * *

Unknown to Stiles, 'a little time' translates to exactly one week. Just long enough for Gibbs to get some time off squared away and to make the trip to California. Just enough time for Stiles to momentarily forget that his Uncle wants to meet his boyfriend and possibly cause all kinds of trouble. (Though Stiles knows that whatever happens, Gibbs won't be malicious or anything. But still, he's so damn intimidating.)

* * *

"You do realize that this is the quickest way to get people talking, don't you?" Peter's voice is drowl, the usual levels of sass and annoyance missing for reasons that Stiles just doesn't really care about. At another time, he would be all over the out of character behavior, but right now, he's tired. He barely slept last night! Isaac showed up at his window, shaken by some kind of nightmare, and Stiles couldn't help but want to help his friend. So, he had spent half the night listening to Isaac talk about his nightmare which then lead to him talking about some of the abuse he endured from his Dad. Finally, once he had worn himself out talking, Stiles had wrapped himself around the larger teen and spent the last half of the night shushing and humming to him to calm his dreams. 

Right now, he feels a little like a zombie dragging his heels, eyes sandpaper'y and mind sluggish. Despite that, he wouldn't change last night if he could, not as far as having been there for his Pup. Of course, if he could have had it so that Isaac hadn't suffered in the first place, he'd be all over that in a heartbeat. For now, though, being tired is worth it to know that Isaac had woken up in a happy, shiny mood. 

"This is me totally not caring, Repete. People have been talking about me since I was a kid. I really just don't give a damn anymore." And sadly, he means that 100%. Every one can gossip all they want, he's got other things to worry about.

Like the fact that in the past three days, he's seen his Dad a grand total of -once- and it was just long enough for him to order Stiles to go shopping and then hand him nowhere near enough money to cover the demand. But whatever. This isn't the first time he's had to do something like this. He has a sudden flashback to his ten year old self struggling to keep food in the house despite his Dad's drunken neglect. A period that the Sheriff has never acknowledged or apologized about to this day.

"Hmm. Normally, I would either not bother to spare a moment to care that you don't care, or I would take some joy in your apathy and poke a little fun." None of this is surprising .. he and Peter are not -friends- and never will be. They are ... tolerant acquaintances, as far as Stiles is concerned. "But you happened to catch me on an ... off day. I find myself perturbed by your un-Stiles-like behavior. In fact, if I didn't know that they were an impossibility, I might go so far as to wonder about pod people." Stiles feet almost slide out from under him as his body tries to perform some strange acrobatics of utter terror. His knees lock, feet continue trying to move, and his arms jerk out, away from his sides, almost pin-wheel'ing at the thought of pod people. Even though Peter pointed out specifically that they are an impossibility, he knows that he will have to do some research for his own peace of mind or he will go crazy with worry. 

Good thing he never does anything as foolish as actually try to -plan- on sleeping .. otherwise, he'd be disappointed even more often than he already is. The feeling of hands grabbing him lightly by the sides to keep him upright are both reassuring and creepy as hell. He can almost -hear- the gossip-mongers wagging their tongues in turbo drive at the almost intimate scene he and Peter probably make.

"Thanks." Yeah, he hates the fact that Repete is alive, but he isn't a complete neanderthal without manners or anything. However, when the hands continue to grasp at his sides, he sails right past grateful to pissed. "I'm alright now. If you don't move your hands, Creeper, I'm going to wait until Derek is well occupied and give you a wolfsbane enema." The words are spoken with the simplistic ease of two friends chatting about the weather or an upcoming test, but almost instantly Peter lets go and takes several steps back.

Stiles was in no way expecting such a thing to happen. If anything, he had expected at best, a little sass thrown his way .. at worst, a returned threat. Instead, Peter looks as if he genuinely -believes- Stiles' threat and is in no way ready to test the fact. For a split second, Stiles is a little proud of himself, until it occurs to him .. that he has no right to be. Surely it's -Derek- that worries Peter.

"Right. And you're more afraid of Derek than me, hence the actually letting go." He starts to turn, wants to get this the hell over with but nearly slips again when Peter lets out a scoff.

"If you believe that, you're nowhere near as smart as I give you credit for. Derek is ... fearsome, in his own right .. and he may have already .. well, you know. But now? Unless he sees me as a real threat, I have nothing to fear from him. You though?" Stiles turns slowly, frowning faintly at the calculating look on Peter's face. It doesn't bode well for him, that look. "You're a human, that runs with wolves. That charges in without a second thought to protect the people you care about. You're more likely to finish the job than Derek is. And not only that ... you'd be far more cunning and calculating about it." He knows that it's supposed to be a compliment, given how twisted and messed up Peter's mind is. "In fact ... if you ever decide that we aren't worth it ... if you ever have a reason to go Dark Side ... I'm 100% certain that no one in the Pack would survive .. not your boyfriend, best friend, or even your Pup. In fact, if you go Dark Side, I have two options ... fall to my knees and bow down, or get the hell out of Beacon Hills. You annoy the hell out of me, but there's something to you that deserves respect, as well. You'd make one hell of an Alpha, Stiles."

This is not as rare an occasion as most of his friends would think ..... Stiles finds himself utter speechless. There are a lot of compliments and respect in that little speech and he wants to thank the older man ........ but he also wants to knock the werewolf out. Because he makes him sound just as cold blooded and calculating as himself and that is one of the worst insults Stiles can think of. (About the worse would probably being stated as having an ego as bad as Jackson or anger issues as deep as Derek's.) 

"... I want to say you're wrong."

"But you can't. Just embrace it, Stiles. Preferably in silence. Now, lets get this finished." Peter steps around him to take control of the shopping cart, forcing the human to keep up.

* * *

Stiles is squinting at the pot simmering on the stove top. He's been at it for over an hour and a half, carefully putting together the perfect dish for his Dad. He has decided that tonight is the night .. he's finally going to come clean. He's going to tell his Dad -everything- .. the existence of the supernatural, the fact that he's friends with werewolves ... even the fact that he is dating Derek Hale. The only thing he -doesn't- plan on telling him, is Scott's furry little secret, since it's not his to tell. Everyone else has agreed to him doing this. Even Peter. That's the one that surprised him the most, especially when he realized that Derek hadn't threatened or ordered him to be okay with it.

Peter's odd level of acceptance of him is -really- starting to freak him out. Especially after the conversation about his supposed potential. He still feels sick over what Peter implied. 

He squints a little more, as if the action will somehow make this concoction cook perfect and quick, and be everything he needs to make sure his Dad stays calm and receptive during what he is already sure will be the Conversation From Hell. How can he make his Dad accept the supernatural, let alone the presence of it in his life? Especially the part of it that comes in the shape of his Alpha Boyfriend? 

"Son of a --" He hisses angrily when he reaches for the handle of the pot and burns himself. Thankfully, his reaction times have improved so he barely reddens the skin. But still, he sticks it under lukewarm water with a sigh, glad that none of the Pack are here to see him. The teasing would probably get old pretty quick. 

Once his hand is dried, he walks back to the stove. This time, he uses a pot holder to grab the handle and moves it to the table, which he has already set for him and his Dad. He knows that this will not go perfect, no matter how much he tries to prepare for it. Because there are too many factors and lets face it .. when does anything go -right- for him these days? Well, apart from the new friends and awesome boyfriend ... okay, so things have been better than they have in a while, but still. He can almost taste the failure here.

A glance at the clock shows that his Dad is twenty minutes late. The sudden shriek of the phone cutting through the silence sends him flailing right out of his seat and onto his ass. Maybe his reactions aren't -that- improved. 

"Hello? Oh. Hey." His stomach drops out when he answers. Because he can hear the faint sounds of the Station in the background.

"Sorry, Stiles, but it looks like I'm pulling a double shift." He sucks in a breath and plasters on a fake smile that his Dad can't see.

"Oh, okay. I, uh .. I guess I'll put everything in the microwave. And I guess we can talk another time." He tries to sound okay with it, he really does, but something must sound off in his voice. Because his Dad sighs heavily, angrily, and Stiles can hear the phone jostle a little.

"Come on, kid, it's not like I'm blowing off something important. Just put the leftovers up. It's no big deal." No big deal .. right. He was just getting ready to tell his Dad about how he's risked his life to save everyone in town, and how he's in his first relationship -ever-, but it's not important or a big deal. He can feel himself deflating.

"Whatever. Just be safe." He hangs up before his Dad can reprimand him for his tone, too tired to care about being a good son right now. This has become the theme of his life lately ... he's an unimportant afterthought to his Dad and best friend. Speaking of .. he considers calling Scott, asking if he wants to come over and eat, but he already knows what will happen. Either he won't bother answering the phone, or he will tell Stiles that he has more important, Allison-themed things to do. Like always. 

He contemplates punching the nearest wall, but knows that will do more damage to himself than the release of pent up emotion will be worth, so he just .. sags there. Shrinks in on himself as he tries to decide what to do with his night. Not that he has many options these days. Unless it involves the Pack, he's pretty much on his own. 

The sudden appearance of arms wrapped tightly around his waist causes him to jerk in surprise, but he relaxes the next instant because he -knows- those arms. They are as familiar as his own. He sinks back into the comforting embrace of his boyfriend, canting his head until it rests gently on Derek's shoulder.

"So. How long were you creeping outside, Der?" Not that the answer isn't obvious or anything. The squeeze to his waist says that Derek knows it's obvious, too. But it's still kind of nice.

"The whole time. Did you really think I'd let you tell your Dad on your own? I was going to be your .. visual aid." Stiles blinks languidly, then bursts out laughing at the thought of Derek playing Show and Tell for him. God, but his boyfriend is kind of perfect in some ways. He turns in his arms, making sure not to dislodge them, before reaching up to splay his fingers across Derek's stubbled cheeks.

"Thank you. Seriously, just .. thank you." Derek flashes one of his rare, private smiles and Stiles feels like an idiot because he knows that the werewolf can hear the way his heart swoops and leaps at the beautiful action. God, Derek should -always- be smiling! And yet, it's all the more special that he only seems to do so when they are alone. It makes Stiles feel warm and gooey. 

"Shut up, Stiles." He pouts for about two seconds, until Derek is pressing a tender, sweet kiss to the pout and turns it into a surprised smile. "I'm sorry he's not coming .. and don't let it get to you. It's a big deal, if he realizes or not." Stiles wants to melt into Derek .. wants to wrap around him like a limpet and never let go. Because this is the side of Derek that no one ever gets to see .. the sweet, kind, caring, supportive Derek Hale that never ceases to amaze and warm Stiles. 

"You might be an asshole, but you're also kinda awesome. Just so you know." In no way surprising, Derek rolls his eyes, but he also presses another kiss to Stiles' lips, so he considers it a win. 

"Come on." Derek reluctantly pulls his arms free of Stiles, leaving the human feeling a little cold and bereft. "He can have leftovers, we get first dibs." Derek couldn't be any more perfect, in Stiles' eyes. His Dad may have bailed, but there is no doubt in his mind that Derek will always be there for him.

* * *

Stiles is so scared, that he's shaking. He cannot remember a moment when he has been filled with such dread before. Facing down a moon-crazed Scott or a psycho Alpha almost seems easy in comparison.

"Stiles! Make him STOP!" Isaac's voice cracks on the word stop, he goes so high, and Stiles immediately covers his ears. He cannot imagine how hard it must be for the three werewolves in the vehicle, but then .. he also doesn't give a damn. They can -suffer- for all he cares.

"Go ahead, Pup, run off and tell Mommy on me." Peter, his ever snide and sassy self, is sitting in the back of the Jeep next to Isaac, arm crossed in defiance. Or something. Honestly, the guy thinks he's a rebel or something but instead, he comes off as a particularly annoying Diva. And right now, Stiles wants to slap him and put him in time out. 

"Peter! Do you remember our earlier conversation, where we discussed exactly what I would do to you?" Peter's eyes widen for a moment and then narrow. He turns his head away from Isaac, sniffs as if put upon, and then sighs dramatically.

"... I'm sorry, Stiles. Isaac." Stiles finds himself smirking, even as Derek slowly twists around in the passenger seat, staring at Peter.

"Did .. my Uncle .. just -apologize- to you?" The skepticism is not unwarranted, but Stiles just smirks a little harder. 

"You're damn right I did, nephew. Unlike the rest of you, I'm well aware who should be obeyed." An odd choice of wording, but Stiles isn't about to question it. Instead, he's staring ahead at the store, already feeling wiped out and they haven't even started yet. 

"Lets get this over with." Stiles mutters, more to himself, but it doesn't really matter, because, you know ... werewolves. The feeling of Derek's hand placed gently on his shoulder manages to calm him more than he ever would've thought possible.

"The Camaro will be out soon, and you won't have to put up with us, Stiles." The thing is, it's -not- putting up with them, not really. They're his friends, so of course he wants to help.

"Come on, Derek, you make it sound like a chore or something. Stiles is Pack. He doesn't mind." Isaac sounds utterly offended at the thought that they are somehow putting Stiles out, and while they -really- are, Stiles doesn't mind as long as they manage to behave. However, given the fact that Peter is with them .. he doesn't see much behaving in the near future.

"I'm not pack, Isaac." He drops that little bombshell right before climbing out of the Jeep and closing the door. He should probably scold all three werewolves for the fact that they move inhumanly fast to surround him. One moment he's turning away from the Jeep, and in the blink of an eye, he's facing three frowning, upset werewolves.

"What ..

.. the actual ..

... fuck!?" The angry, growl-infused question starts with Peter and ends with Derek. All three werewolves are glowing-eyed and look a few seconds from wolfing out. While Isaac is not surprising, the two born wolves are. Stiles looks around quickly, relieved to realize that no one is standing within freak-out distance. 

"Oh my -gawd- would you calm the hell down?? Seriously, you are a few seconds from going furry in the middle of a public place!" Stiles can feel himself growing agitated, and knows that this is usually the moment where he would make the situation worse. The fact that he wishes he had a rolled up newspaper to smack them all on the nose with, proves it. 

Even though he's gotten a bit better at helping in supernatural situations, his survival instinct is still busted beyond repair, it seems.

"Why on -earth- do you think you're not pack?" Peter manages to sound both curious and Diva levels of offended at the concept. Stiles continues to frown, confused as to -why- his friends are upset at what seems like an obvious thing to him. How could he possibly be Pack!? Sure, he's dating the Alpha, but so? He's a human. End of story.

"Are ... are you choosing Scott over us? I mean, I get it .. I really do. He's been your best friend since the dawn of time, whatever. I just .. I thought ..." Poor pup Isaac sounds lost and confused ... sounds every inch of a hurting child that has just lost something and Stiles is even more confused. How does this translate to picking Scott .. the jackass that has dropped him like the ultimate bad habit with no desire to look back? 

"What the hell, Stiles?? What do you -mean- you're not Pack? Who the fuck are you choosing over -us-?" Oops, say hello to Derek's deadly fangs! "If you've chosen another Alpha I will ripe him to pieces!" And ... hello badass claws of murder as well. Damn it! Stiles rushes forward, again proving that he has zero self preservation instinct. Because he grabs a pissed off, half transformed -ALPHA- werewolf by the jaws and shakes his head angrily. It's enough to surprise Derek out of his change, which in turn allows Isaac and Peter to stop flashing their were eyes. 

"Slow your collective rolls, fools." He huffs deeply, his eyes closing moments before he drops his hands from Derek's cheeks. Predictably, the Alpha immediately wraps him in his arms, refusing to let go when he thinks Stiles might be leaving in some way.

As if. 

Nothing has managed to drive him off yet .. no way does he plan on leaving his friends. He's too stupidly loyal for that. He didn't even leave Scott .. it's Scott that left him. He exhales slowly and glances over one shoulder to eye Peter.

"It seems pretty obvious why I'm not Pack, Peter. In fact, I can think of several reasons right off the top of my head. How you're struggling with that, I don't know." With another deep exhale, he turns his neck to look over his other shoulder to look at Isaac, since it is pretty obvious that Derek has zero intention of letting him go any time soon. "And you .. of -course- I'm not choosing Scott over you guys. I'm not Scott's pack, either. I never was. No offense to him, but he wouldn't know how to Pack to save his or even Allison's life. Don't get me wrong .. the dude's my Brother and he always will be, no matter what's going on between us. But I will never be his Pack." Because he will never be Pack to -anyone-. 

Finally, he turns. Reaches up to carefully rest his arms on Derek's shoulders, fingers running through the shirt hair at the nape of his neck as he looks into his boyfriend's angry, hurt, and confused eyes. Derek tries to be as cool and laid back as he can, as unaffected as he can, but his eyes are always so damn expressive. They show everything.

"And as for you .." He sighs again, tilts his head until he can ever so gently brush his nose against Derek's. The werewolf smiles, almost against his will, as usual, when Stiles does something unbelievably cute/domestic/silly/sappy/loving. It further calms him down. "I am -not- choosing another Alpha you great big, fur covered marshmallow. You are the only Alpha I care about, okay? But you're not -my- Alpha, because I am -not- Pack. How, exactly, am I the one stuck explaining this?" He starts to pull away but just groans when Derek tightens his arms, a look of petulant defiance on his gorgeous features. Okay, so, not ready to let him go yet .. which means that he's not convinced Stiles is staying. 

He's not sure Derek will ever be convinced that he wants to stay.

"I'm not one of you .. and frankly, I never will be. I'm sorry. I don't -ever- want the bite. I don't care what you said, Peter, I wasn't lying. I was scared out of my -mind- because a twisted, feral Alpha was trying to bite my wrist. It wasn't a lie. I'm fine being me. I don't need the bite." Even he can hear the edge to his voice, daring the beta to try and argue with him. Peter looks thoughtful for a moment, before he nods in agreement. Because Stiles -isn't- lying. He doesn't want to be a werewolf, or to chance that he will become some other kind of were or even a monstrosity. He doesn't have enough confidence in himself to be sure that he would be able to handle it. He can barely handle himself as is. 

"And since I'm not related to any of you, I'm not Pack by blood default, either." Isaac makes a slightly wounded sound, as if he is pained at the acknowledgement that Stiles isn't actually related. Given Isaac's nature, his desire for family/pack .. yeah, Stiles can understand how that hurts. "And lastly .. I'm not an Emissary. I can't be like Deaton, so I can't be associated with the Pack in that way. Lets face it .. no matter what I do or say .. I'll never be an advisor or anything." He doesn't say that to guilt them, but they still all momentarily look guilty. "So, I'm not Pack. And that's okay. Because Peter .. you're still my pseudo-Uncle .. you know, the creepy one that makes me want to scream stranger danger on a regular basis."

"I love-hate you too, Stiles."

"Isaac ... I don't have to be Pack for you to stay over, or for you to be my Pup. -Nothing- will change that, unless you decide you don't want to --"

"NEVER gonna happen, Stiles. I'll always be your Pup." The fact that the tall werewolf actually blushes as he earnestly and vehemently insists, just makes Stiles love his Pup even more. 

"Annnnddd .. now we're right back to my adorable, temperamental Alpha." Derek seems to straighten up a little, his eyes half lidded from the way that Stiles' fingers are running through the ends of his hair. The action never fails to garner a pleased expression from the older man. "Derek. I don't want another Alpha, I'm not looking to join a Pack. -You- are my Alpha, even if you're not my Alpha. Get it?" Stiles flutters his lashes to emphasize his point.

In the days Pre-relationship, this would've gotten him a growled threat followed by his back meeting the first available surface in a less-than-friendly shove. But now, it gets him a little bit of a soft, fond smirk.

"Surprisingly, yes, I got it. I'm starting to understand you ... guess that means you'll never get rid of me." To anyone else, probably even the werewolves that can hear/taste/scent emotions, it seems as if Derek is being playful. But Stiles .. he's always been good at reading people. (He theorizes that it comes from his Mom's side of the family, because his Uncle is intuitive as all get out when it comes to people. And even if his Cousin is a little slow in some aspects of people, he can read them eerily well sometimes.) So, he can see the stripped bare hope and fear in equal measure in his boyfriend's eyes.

"Damn straight, Sour wolf." He nearly growls the words, watching as Derek shivers and draws him closer. Their kiss is gentle and sweet, given the fact that they are in public with Derek's Pack -right- there.

"But Stiles .. you need to get something, too. Just ... shut up and listen." Stiles draws in a breath and silently congratulates himself on the fact that he doesn't immediately pop off as he usually would. The urge is nearly overwhelming, but he has learned to censor himself rather well these days. "You are Pack. It doesn't matter that you weren't born into it or that you aren't an Emissary. It doesn't even matter that we're .. dating." Stiles nearly melts at the way that Derek hesitates on the word dating. It comes out rough and a tad shy, an emotion he seriously NEVER expected to see his boyfriend exhibit. "We've never been normal and we never will be. We all consider you a part of the Pack. Please, just ... be okay with that."

Huh. He had never really expected anyone to say something like that. Well, -anything- like -any- of this, really. He had never expected to be told that he's accepted, let alone asked to be okay with the fact. 

Can he?

The intellectual part of him knows that this shouldn't be a question. Either he's capable of being okay with being a part of the Pack, or he's not. But at his core, he's a self conscious teenager no matter how much he's been through. So, he drops his gaze and tries to consider it, but it's easier said than done. Running makes so much more sense at the moment, so maybe those instincts aren't so busted after all. 

"I .. I'll think about it, Derek. I promise." It's the best he can do at present. "Now. Can we -please- get the children inside and get this done?"

"Really, Stiles? Lumping me in with the over eager pup? You really are just a sassy little bitch, aren't you?" When Peter hisses in pain, it's not from Derek or Isaac. He clutches the back of his head with big, surprised eyes after Stiles slaps him there.

"If Imma bitch, Peter, Imma little scared to know what that makes you. Inside. Now." He ignores the snicker from Derek and Isaac as he turns to lead the Pack inside.

* * *

Stiles tries not to sigh, his insides a twisted mess as he stares at the set table. This is the second time his Dad has called to cancel a family dinner. A second time he doesn't get to tell him everything that's been going on. And also .. the second time his Dad blew him off entirely by saying whatever it was didn't matter, wasn't a big deal.

He falls bonelessly into his chair, hands curled into white knuckled fists against his thighs. This time, he hadn't bothered to tell Derek his plans, so he is pitifully alone. No big, strong arms to fall into.

"Fucking figures." He allows himself this private moment to snarl and snap the words into the empty room before he calms down. Once he has expended the energy, he leans heavily back in his chair and fishes his phone from his pocket. After much, -much- debate, he checks for missed calls or messages ... and his heart sinks. Not surprising, there's a general text to check on him from Derek, a few nonsense, pay-attention-to-me texts from Isaac. Nothing from his brother. 

He scrolls through the contacts until he reaches Sour wolf and hits the phone icon. It only takes two rings.

"Stiles." Straight, to the point, and yet ... somehow infinitely softer than he says anything else. Stiles doesn't bother trying to fight down the whole body shiver since no one is there to see it. 

"... he bailed on me again." This announcement is met with utter silence and Stiles suddenly wonders if he made a mistake by calling. This isn't the type of 'problem' that a damn Alpha needs to be dealing with. It's the juvenile stupidity of a teenager. He curls up in the chair, hugging one knee as he clutches at the phone. Tries to control his breathing so that his boyfriend won't know how messed up he's feeling at the moment.

"Stiles." Derek sounds so sweetly soft and concerned and Stiles instantly feels like a moron. He really shouldn't have bothered the older man with this.

"I, uhm, I'm sorry, Derek. I shouldn't have called, I was just ... it doesn't matter. I really need to get everything cleaned up and --" His words are cut short by a loud, insistent knock at his front door. It really says something about his life that he's so very surprised by the idea of someone knocking rather than just .. entering a window or something. He jumps up from his chair and heads to the door, not bothering to check before he opens it ... to a very irked and concerned looking Derek. "Uh ... what the hell even, Der??" He watches his Alpha boyfriend tense after ending the call and shoving his phone into his jacket pocket. Watches as a very, -very- minute expression of embarrassment softens his sour wolf features.

"I .. may have ... already been in the area. A little. Kinda close by." If this were anyone other than Derek, he's pretty sure his boyfriend would be rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly or something, rather than looking almost stoic about it all. Almost being the key word, because Stiles can see everything displayed in his Alpha's eyes.

"Dude .. you were checking up on me, weren't you?" It's not an accusation or said in a teasing way, but instead, so very touched. Derek really cares that much? This time, the stoic facade fully cracks, replaced by a look half haunted and so very sincere.

"I .. yeah. Yeah, I was. You've been on edge lately and I just .. wanted to make sure you were okay." Stiles can visibly see Derek beginning to retreat after showing a vulnerable side of himself and that's not what Stiles wants. So he grabs him without warning, fingers clenching in the lapel of his jacket to yank him forward into a kiss. Derek yelps as their lips meet, hands shooting out to grab at Stiles' hips and hold him steady in case the teen over does it and nearly sends them both sprawling. It's happened many times before. 

"You're awesome, Derek. I cannot overstate that, ever. You're just so awesome." And he means it, from the bottom of his heart. Derek isn't perfect .. his sour wolf is damaged, but so is he. He pulls the older man into another kiss before taking a step back and letting him in.

"I know." Stiles stops with the door half open and turns to stare the older man down for a moment. Did he .. did he quote that on purpose, even though Stiles hadn't said I love you? He scans the face of the werewolf for any hint that he's kidding, and tries to ignore the tug of disappointment in his gut. 

"Come on, Sour wolf. Lets go eat."

* * *

After they managed to wipe out almost all of the food he made, they find themselves in the livingroom, curled up on the couch. It's not really their usual spot, as most time is spent in Stiles' room where they have some small hope of privacy. Stiles just really wants to be comforted by his boyfriend, though, so he's not paying too much attention to where they are.

Much later, he will scold himself for not going upstairs where Derek could've made a quick getaway.

"Stiles?" Derek totally whines his name, even if he doesn't have the guts to call it that to the face of the werewolf, it's a whine. And also cute for some reason. He carefully positions himself until he's laying in the crook of Derek's arm, using it as a pillow. And the Alpha is smiling. A full on, no holds barred, real life smile. It melts Stiles into a puddle of happy-happy joy-joy feelings that he will never cop to. (Not that Derek probably can't read all of it with his supernatural senses.) 

"Hmm?" The teen barely manages to sigh the sound as he carefully shifts until his chin is pressed to Derek's heart without his head leaving the crook of his arm.

"What else is wrong?" He jerks in surprise, Derek's lightening fast reflexes the only thing that keeps him from barrelling right off the structure and onto the floor. He had -not- been expecting the question, though he's not sure why. He is, after all, the one that tries to be prepared for any and every thing. 

"If this were a normal relationship, I'd be able to say nothing and it would end there, right?"

"Yeah .. but it's not and you know it won't. Talk, Stiles." They both take a moment to savor the bizarre nature of the circumstances where Derek is asking him to talk rather than telling him to shut up. But Stiles knows that in the end, there will be no staving this off. Derek can be patient when he wants, and is fully prepared to wait him out. 

"Can we just appreciate how odd it is, you telling me to talk for a change?" The blank expression the werewolf gives him reminds him of all those awkward comedy scenes filled with the chirping of insects. Ugh. "Fine." He spits the word out far more aggressively than he had intended, pulling out of Derek's arms despite the werewolf trying to hold on. He stands and walks to the window, opening the curtain enough to look outside for something to do other than stare at his inquisitive boyfriend. "What do you think is wrong, Derek? Dad is a complete no-show for my life right now and I know it's my own damn fault. Scott may as well have forgotten we were ever brothers, let alone friends." He knows that he's bitter and whining, and he hates himself for feeling this way. "And I know that it's basically just .. juvenile problems but I still can't let it go." He hangs his head, sighing heavily, and then nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels Derek's arms go around him. Feels the older man plaster himself to his back.

"Who the hell said you have to let it go, Stiles? And who says it's juvenile? Everyone deals with things like this, no matter what the age. You'll always have parent issues, best friend issues, relationship issues." Stiles tenses at the last point since it hadn't been brought up yet, and his mind immediately starts to try and go into overdrive. The feeling of Derek squeezing him draws him back from the brink. "We are -not- having relationship issues. I was making a point. It's fine for you to be frustrated with all of this, and even middle aged people struggle with these things. It's okay." 

This ... this right here .. is why the teenager is head over heels in love with his boyfriend. Because Derek Hale is one of the most caring, concerned, and loving people he has ever met. He might not advertise the fact, but it's there, plain as day, for those smart enough to see. And Stiles sees it a lot. 

He quickly turns in Derek's arms, making sure not to break the hold, and slides his arms around his shoulders. He pulls his boyfriend into a deep, slow kiss of utter adoration and thanks, and nearly shivers when Derek gently bites his bottom lip. He's not that surprised that the werewolf is a little bit of a biter, that he tends to like Stiles' lips kiss and bit swollen. Lord knows they had spent enough time staring at each others mouths before actually getting together. 

They spend nearly five minutes like that .. exchanging soft, sweet little kisses, breathing each other in, before a loud knock at the front door causes them to jump apart. Derek looks wide eyed and dumbstruck at having missed the approach of someone to Stiles' home, while the teen himself just looks perplexed. He cannot think of a single person that would be knocking right now. Peter is smart enough to avoid the Sheriff's house like the plague, Isaac always texts or calls before he comes over. He never once thinks it might be Scott showing up.

When he starts toward the door, he yelps in surprise and confusion when Derek snags him by the arm and drags him back, behind him.

"What the hell, dude!?" 

"Don't answer it. Whoever it is, they have a gun for some reason. And they don't smell like anyone that works with your Dad." Usually, Stiles would probably be the first to think that someone was overreacting, but given the things happening in Beacon Hills lately, he can't help but feel worried. 

"Is it a Hunter?" Because that is honestly the -last- thing he can take right now. 

"No. They don't smell like wolfsbane or mountain ash. Just .. sawdust?" Stiles stills instantly, his mind working in overtime. They have a gun and smell of sawdust .. the connection is almost instantaneous. He lights up and shoves right past his overprotective boyfriend, running for the door.

"Jethro!" He yanks the door open and is about to throw himself at the older man standing on the other side, when Derek grabs him by the arm and yanks him behind again, protecting him. It's touching, if not a bit annoying.

"Stiles! Did you -not- hear what I just said? Are your instincts really -that- busted??" He so wants to argue but he knows that he would lose. Because yes, his instincts are that busted, or he would never be friends with werewolves, let alone dating one. However, he has no intention of saying something like that in front of his Uncle. 

"Calm down, Derek. I know him! Eesh." He starts to step around Derek, but one look from the irate Alpha stills him.

"Really, kid. Really?! -WEREWOLVES-!?" Gibbs is standing in the doorway, eyes narrowed in that dangerous way. To most people, he would look stoic and indifferent, but Stiles can read the anger and concern. It does -not- bode well. "First your Cousin gets mixed up in space vampires and now you're mixed up with -werewolves-. You're both lucky I don't lock you away just to keep you safe. You cannot tell me that your Dad is okay with this. I'm pretty sure even your Cousin would hit the roof over this. You're dating a werewolf that looks like a serial killer and has actually been arrested by your Dad. Not to mention was a -fugitive- for a time." Stiles can feel his heart kick up into terrified levels, so he's not the least bit shocked when Derek reaches for him again. His boyfriend worries far too easily, sometimes.

"Oh come -on-, Gibbs! You make it sound like I've been -- wait! You wanna back that all the way up there, old man? Space vampires!? Are you telling me that wherever Rodney is based, he's dealing with SPACE VAMPIRES?! How could you -NOT- tell me that SPACE VAMPIRES are a THING! And then get allllll up in my business because I'm dating a werewolf?? Oh -hell no-, Jethro!" He can feel himself beginning to hyperventilate. Can feel his lungs seizing, his throat tightening, and his heart hammering so fast that his chest physically hurts.

Oh.

Wait.

That may be the lack of breath.

When he feels himself being moved so that powerful arms can wrap around him from behind and a strong hand can be pressed against the erratic beat of his heart, he wants to cry. Because of -course- Derek would even do this, would slip out of his own comfort zone to try and help him through a panic attack. He struggles to focus on the feeling of Derek breathing normally against his back, and Gibbs' gruff but anchoring voice.

"Aw hell, kid. I thought you out grew this already. Come on. Steady breaths ... I was never good at this." If he had the ability to, Stiles would be laughing his ass off at the almost whining tone his Uncle is using. However, that would cost precious oxygen he simply cannot spare. 

"It's okay, Stiles. I'm right here. Breathe with me. Come on. Feel my chest move .. yeah ... just like that." The unshakeable confidence in Derek's voice cuts right through the panic and begins to calm him. If he didn't know any better, he'd think this was some kind of werewolf supernatural mojo, but even an Alpha doesn't have that ability. At least, not that Derek has ever let on about. 

Eventually, after what seems like an eternity, but in reality is mere minutes, he can feel himself slowly coming back from the edge of the overwhelming panic. 

"-THIS- is why we agreed that telling you would be a bad idea, kid." Gibbs' voice breaks through the frayed, foggy edges of his consciousness as the remnants of his panic attack continue to wear against him. It's always hard, struggling to fully come back to the situation after this. When he was younger, he'd always end up taking a nap to combat the sheer exhaustion he's always left in.

However, that's not really an option now, is it? Not with Gibbs and Derek both here.

"We? You mean ... of course. Rodney wouldn't want me to know, either." It hurts, knowing that his cousin didn't trust him with this kind of information. But then .. he hadn't exactly rushed out to tell his Uncle or his Cousin about werewolves, had he? He wants to be angry, but he's still too lethargic to muster up the emotion. So instead, he leans heavily back, against Derek. "Whatever. If they're space vampires, I have a feeling they're not currently a threat, or Rodney would be here rather than wherever he's stationed." No, if Earth was in that kind of trouble, he knows that his Cousin would be here to protect him. If not Rodney himself, he's pretty sure Sheppard would be camped out on their doorstep. He gives a little bit of a dreamy sigh when he thinks about the Colonel, can feel his cheeks heating a little. When Derek shakes him slightly to get his attention, he blushes even deeper and clears his throat.

"Who's Rodney and why are you .. reacting this way?" Derek's voice has taken on a predatory edge, and Stiles tries not to blush even more. He knows what Derek's thinking and just eww, okay?

"Rodney is ... not the reason I was .. reacting that way. Rodney's my older Cousin. Like, -way- older." He can't help but snicker because he knows that if Rodney was here, he'd squawk with indignation and probably say something childish and petulant in return. God, he misses him! "That, uh .. that was about someone else ..."

"God! Don't tell me you still swoon over the Colonel, Stiles!" Derek growls low and thready at the word swoon, and Stiles almost ducks right out of his arms.

"I'm not .. swooning, Jethro! I've -never- swooned before. It's just ... I mean, come on! He's a hot as hell flyboy. I can't help it." When Derek's arms start to slip away, Stiles immediately reaches down to grab them and trap them in place. "It's just a little .. physical crush, Derek. It's nothing to worry about. Besides, he's engaged to Rodney." The werewolf hesitates before he tightens his grasp for a moment and then pulls away completely. Stiles tries not to feel lonely and abandoned. Instead, he turns to face Gibbs again.

The older man is watching them with eagle eyes, and it unnerves the teenager. However, he knows better than to let Gibbs intimidate him. Knows better than to show any weakness. It's because of Gibbs that he's capable of running with wolves, capable of giving everything of himself to protect those he loves. It's a family trait. 

"So, I guess my manners have fled. Derek, this is my Uncle, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He's my Mom's half brother." He turns to look at Gibbs and he knows that he has a bit of a goofy smile going on. "Jethro ... this is my boyfriend, Derek Hale." The werewolf actually straightens at the label of boyfriend. He grins at Stiles with genuine happiness, before turning serious when he faces Gibbs again. "As for the gun .. Uncle Gibbs is a federal agent. He carries for work." Sadly, this reassurance does nothing to make the werewolf relax, but he hadn't expected it to. "And no, Dad doesn't know. Not from lack of trying, though. Twice now, he was supposed to be home for supper and I was going to tell him everything. Werewolves, emissaries, boyfriend .. all of it. But he keeps bailing." His voice cracks on the word bailing, and he is vaguely aware of Gibbs stepping a little closer.

"So ... your Dad is a cop and your Uncle is a federal agent? Is your Cousin in the same line?" Stiles glances at Gibbs and they share a bit of a smile. The thought of Rodney as any kind of law enforcement is hilarious.

"Yeah .. no. I mean, he's worked with a -lot- of governments, but not in any kind of agent capacity. The short and simple of it .. he's a damn -genius-. He has four diplomas, two of which are Phd's. He works in theoretical astrophysics, engineering, and several other areas. He's worked in quite a few different government departments, and has actually worked at Area 51. Technically, I'm not supposed to know that, but he's told me a lot that he wasn't supposed to." Stiles grins goofily as he admits this, knowing that Rodney risked a lot to tell him what he has, but still a little put out that he hasn't been told everything. "So, where Dad and Uncle Gibbs went the law enforcement route, Rodney went the mad scientist route." His voice shines with pride when he talks about his family. It always has. They might not get to see each other as often as they want, but they all love each other very much. One has only to hear them speak of the other to know that.

"Huh. So .. which way are you planning on going?" Derek's voice gives nothing away beyond a gentle note of vague curiosity. But that doesn't mean anything ... because even after such a short time being together, Stiles can read his boyfriend so very well. Which is why he can hear the worry and concern buried deep in the question. Given how much Derek has lost in the course of his young life, Stiles can't imagine that he relishes the idea of his boyfriend in a dangerous profession. Though, at this moment, Stiles really isn't looking that far ahead.

"Honestly? I have no idea, yet. I mean .. I know I'm capable of both .. I know that I'd be able to do good for people in both. But I have time before I have to decide." It's probably not the answer that Derek wants, but the werewolf just nods in understanding and lets it go. Gibbs, however, doesn't seem okay with the answer.

"Wrong answer, kid. The -right- answer, is -neither-. Law enforcement is way too damn dangerous, and lets face it .. despite how smart you are, you're likely to blow something up if you go the science route." Stiles' eyes widen in shock. He honestly can't tell if Gibbs is teasing him, or if he actually -means- these things. Either way, he's pretty sure his Uncle doesn't realize just how .. hurtful the words are. For a man as perceptive as Leroy Jethro Gibbs, he can be an idiot when it comes to things such as emotions, feelings, etc. 

Before Stiles can voice how wrong those words are, and how much they hurt, Gibbs' back is connecting with the wall next to the door. Derek is holding him angrily by the throat, eyes glowing blood red in his alpha anger.

"And just who do you think you are, saying shit like that to your -nephew-!? Stiles can do whatever the hell he wants, he doesn't need your permission or input. Hell, I'm pretty sure he could take over the -world- if he wanted to, dangerous or not." Derek is so pissed, his shoulders are heaving with the weight of his angry, growling breaths and Stiles is touched by the behavior. A little appalled because his boyfriend is currently holding his Uncle by the throat, but touched all the same. (He considers telling Derek what Peter said about his potential, but this isn't the time or place. It will probably -never- be the time or place.) 

"Put me down. Now. Before I shoot you." Gibbs' growl is nowhere near as feral as that of the werewolf, but it's still dangerous and threatening. Stiles can see Derek start to respond out of habit before his hand tightens a little more.

This simply won't do.

Stiles marches up to them, and lightening fast, he slaps them both in the back of the head, Gibbs style. Derek grunts in surprise and lets Gibbs go. Gibbs actually -yelps-. If Stiles wasn't mad, he'd regret not recording the sound to send to Gibbs' team. As it is, however, he's too tired and irked to think beyond the situation.

"Both of you calm the fuck down! Derek, you do -not- put your hand around my Uncle's throat, I don't care how rude he was being. Gibbs, you do -not- threaten to shoot my boyfriend. Ever." The teen glares at both older men, eyes narrowed, mouth set in a thin, white line of anger. Derek drops his head, but doesn't take his gaze off Gibbs ... because of -course- his boyfriend considers his Uncle a threat. At least he's not physically threatening the older man anymore, so Stiles chooses to consider it a win. 

Gibbs is glaring, hands clenched in fists at his sides as he looks between his nephew and the Alpha.

".. I won't apologize for taking up for you, Stiles. And as long as he watches his mouth .. I'll leave him alone." It's the closest to civil the Alpha can be when he thinks something/someone is a threat to his boyfriend, so he accepts it. For now. 

"I won't apologize for threatening your mongrel boyfriend with silver bullets if he straightens up and stops trying to intimidate me. I've met people far more dangerous and scary than you dozens of times in my life, kid." Because, of course, Gibbs is incapable of just apologizing and letting this proceed the way it should/needs to. He loves his Uncle with all that he is, but sometimes ...... sometimes, he really just doesn't like him. He is fully aware of what the second B stands for.

"Okay, first off .. silver bullets ain't gonna do -jack- but piss him off. It's none of your business what -will- do damage, because if you pull the trigger, I will cut you out of my life so fast, you'll forget I ever existed." Stiles knows that Derek is probably surprised by his words, because even -he- can feel the steady metronome of his usually erratic heart .... because he means this with all that he is. 

"Oh come on ... are you really going to threaten me like that, Stiles? I'm you're favorite Uncle." 

"Correction, TONY is my favorite Uncle. The dude is just -damn- impressive, five stars across the board, OMG!" Stiles has to physically clamp a hand over his mouth to keep himself from continuing to sing Tony's praises. Partially because he -knows- Gibbs will tell him and he will never hear the end of it, and because he's also very much aware that his boyfriend is easily made possessive and jealous and he doesn't have the energy to reassure him right now. "And just -try- me, Leroy. Because I can tell you, I am not lying. Hell, -Derek- can tell you I am not lying, because he's a living, breathing lie detector and if you don't cool yo jets about my Alpha .. You. Are. Gone." He makes sure to emphasize each word, but doesn't get to continue. Because he can -feel- Derek looming beside him. When he turns his gaze away from his Uncle, Derek is staring at him with narrowed eyes, claws 'casually' unsheathed.

"Who the fuck is -TONY-??" Stiles would know that this is a precarious situation even if Derek wasn't snarling and snapping his impressive jaws. So, Stiles does what he does best. He digs down real, real deep .. and fires off that sass.

"Tony is a James Bond-wannabe, Italian gigolo-looking federal agent that works with Gibbs at NCIS." Internally, Stiles is chastising himself for being stupid and reckless while simultaneously congratulating himself on the fact that he's probably about to piss Derek off on a level never yet achieved. "He's one of the hottest, goofiest, coolest people I've ever met. He's also single handedly responsible for me considering the possibility that I might be bisexual when I first hit puberty. Of course, I ended up tabling that thought until recently, but still ... Tony is just -damn-." He manages not to squeak when Derek pushes past him in a huff, headed for the door. He honestly expects that his boyfriend plans to hunt down NCIS and find Tony. Because Derek is adorably stupid like that. He waits until he has a hand on the door knob before he clears his throat and speaks up. "He's also Gibbs boyfriend." The Alpha instantly goes still and Stiles has to fight not to openly drool at the way Derek's shoulderblades tense under his ridiculously tight shirt. Which means that Derek can -smell- how much Stiles appreciates the scene, but he doesn't care. He's trying to come to terms with the disadvantages he has in his chosen circle of friends/family. 

"... seriously?" Derek slowly turns, nostrils flaring obviously a few seconds before he's across the room with superhuman strength and has lifted Stiles up and placed him belly down over his shoulder. Stiles squeals and grabs a hold of Derek's hip, afraid of sliding off, though he also knows better. Derek would never let him get hurt, after all. "Too far, Stiles."

When Derek turns and heads toward the stairs, Stiles feels the first waves of panic hit.

"Stop. Right. There. First, that is way more than I -ever- needed to know about how you thought of Tony, and second, there's no way in -hell- whatever -this- is, is happening while I'm still in the house, Gosia." Of course, Stiles immediately begins to flail at the shortened version of his real name, eyes as wide as saucers and heart beating a threatened staccato. If not for Derek, he may have actually fallen down and hurt himself. Instead, once he starts flailing, he's pulled down and his back is against the wall next to the stairs instantly. 

He cannot pinpoint when this position became reassuring rather than threatening, but thank God it has. This time, though, Derek isn't caging him in, just making sure that he's standing steady before he's backing up. However, there's a thoughtful look on his face.

"How man -times- do I have to tell you to -never- use that name, Leroy!?"

"You can tell me all you want, kid, doesn't mean I'm gonna stop. It's your name, or a part of it. So use it."

"Right ... says the guy that prefers people to call him by his last name. It's none of your business what I want to be called, just that you call me it."

"Gosia .... Gosia ..." Stiles head snaps around, eyes narrowed at his boyfriend as he mumbles to himself. " Gosia .. Goska ... Mal...gor ..zat ...a ..." When Derek begins to slowly sound out the Polish name, Stiles can physically feel his face whitening, can feel the blood draining away. Though, he's mentally trying to tell himself that it's okay. There's no reason in -hell- for Derek to know that his name means --

"Your real name is the Polish equivalent of Margaret?" Stiles can feel the muscle under his eye begin to jump because he has had this conversation too many times. In fact, he had been completely fine with the meaning of his name until he made the mistake of proudly telling Jackson what it meant .. well, needless to say, he became Stiles shortly after that. 

"Yes, Derek. My real name is Margaret. My cousin Rodney .. his first name is actually Meredith ... don't ask. The women in our family have a habit of torturing the male children moniker wise." He huffs, his arms crossing in front of his chest, blocking himself off from the werewolf. 

"... why on -Earth- do you know what Gosia and Malgorzata mean?" Gibbs has entered interrogation mode again, eyes narrowed, body tensed in a subtle way, as if prepared for trouble. Stiles used to love seeing his Uncle like this, but the thought of this version of Gibbs aimed at his boyfriend is not making him very happy. Though he's also curious as to -why- Derek understood his name. 

"I started learning Polish." It's such a simple, easy statement, but for some reason, it short circuits Stiles.

"When?" Gibbs continues to press.

"Beginning of this summer. After I got through the basics, I decided to look up some names. Liked that one, so I remembered it." Just when it feels as if his mind is finally rebooting Stiles feels it crash again. Why would Derek start studying Polish at the beginning of this summer?

"... right before you started dating my Nephew." Those words have more impact than a high speed collision ... more impact than his back meeting odd surfaces. It bowls him over and almost takes his breath away. It definitely causes his heart to do a weird, overwhelmed thump thing that has Derek eyeing him with concern. "Wait .. are you saying you learned Polish for Gosia?" 

"... I'm learning Polish for Stiles." The correction isn't huge but it is earth shattering. 

"Sorry about this, Leroy." Stiles mumbles the apology, his cheeks already filling with heat, before he leans in. He slides his palms gently along the curve of Derek's cheeks, cupping them to pull the larger man in so that he can press a slow, tender kiss to the Alpha's lips. 

The most stubborn, frustrating person he has -ever- known .. is learning a new language for him. The man who would usually rather make Stiles research than learn something himself ... is willingly learning something for -him-. He can feel that complicated flutter of his heart again as he's pulling away from Derek's lips. 

"Hear that?" When Derek glances down at his chest with a faint nod, Stiles grins from ear to ear. "... that .. is the sound of me falling in love, sour wolf." 

Derek makes a sound that Stiles is not familiar with. Well, that is to say, not familiar when -Derek- makes it. If it had come from Isaac or Scott .. from himself, or maybe Tony, he would identify it as a whimper. A soft, gentle, earnest little whimper. But come on .. Alpha Derek Hale would never whimper .. right? He barely has time to contemplate what he's heard before he's being swept up into those powerful arms he's become so dependent on. He feels himself being pressed to Derek's chest, feels the wild beat of his Alpha's heart and he shivers in pleasure. 

"Gosia ..." Derek murmurs the name low and sensual, like cool satin across bare skin and Stiles shivers even harder. Reaches out with shaking hands to grab a handful of Derek's shirt front. "I love you." Three little words that Stiles has always been utterly convinced he would never hear. A lifetime of bullying by the likes of Jackson and no dating prospects had left him feeling hollow and unwanted ... dead sure that no one would ever be able to love him. So, to hear Derek say that ... it's his turn to whimper.

"I love you too, Derek." The sudden, almost harsh clearing of a throat is the only thing that stops him from launching his mouth at Derek's. They both reluctantly look away from each other, gazes landing on a slightly smirking Gibbs. The man looks far too self satisfied and Stiles has no clue -why-. 

"Still way more than I need to know about you, Gosia. But .." The older man glances between the two of them, before his smirk softens into a real smile. "He passes .. for now. Find a good time to tell your Dad the truth .. and if he gives you any problems .. well, hell, you know where I live, kid. You're welcome anytime." The older man takes a step closer, eyes narrowed, smile melting away into a threatening line as he stares at the Alpha. "As for you .. hurt my Malgorzata .. I might not be able to kill you, but I can make -damn- sure you want to die. We clear?"

Derek's eyes flash that brilliant, Alpha red, but not in a threatening way. More of a ... respectful gesture, as he nods his understanding.

"Yeah, we're clear. Trust me .. I don't want to hurt him." Stiles leans closer to his boyfriend, arms wrapping around him tightly as he nuzzles his cheek against his shoulder. Derek doesn't hesitate, just cants to press a kiss to the side of his head.

"Tell Rodney I expect to be at the wedding. Me and three guests." He knows that technically, clearance should be impossible, but he wants cousin and the Pack to meet desperately. 

"I'll see what I can do. Since it's you ... I'm pretty sure Meredith will hijack Stargate Command to get you there, if he has to." And they both know that the likelihood of that is pretty high. "See you later, kid." Gibbs is smart enough not to try and separate the two for a hug, just turns and heads out of the house.

When Stiles finally straightens, Derek is staring at him with those iridescent, expressive eyes that pin him to the spot. This could end badly .. or really, -really- good.

"So ... Tony?" Oh .. okay .... Stiles turns and takes off running full tilt for the stairs, head thrown back in a teasing laugh when Derek roars and gives chase. 

_Fin_


End file.
